Red Lips and French Finger Tips
by SereneCalamity
Summary: Damon and Elena are getting ready for a wedding, but unorganized Damon forgets to check the gas gauge in the car... Delena. OneShot.


_Disclaimer: I do not own the characters. Or Damon would be tucked up somewhere in my closet :)_

A wedding. That was it. Damon Salvatore had to keep reminding himself WHY he was getting so dressed up, tux, tie, perfectly polished shoes. He hated getting dressed up, being restricted in a stupid outfit, his hair perfectly done. He much preferred the messy, fall-where-it-please hair style. And he wouldn't even have to be dressed up if his darling little brother was here, instead of running all over the place trying to save the world. Damon carried on grumbling under his breath, until he heard a knock on the door.

"Damon? Are you nearly ready?" Came a soft voice. Damon could smell her, the sweet scent of her drifting toward him, making him want her even more. Elena Gilbert opened the door, and popped her head around the corner. Her hair had been perfectly curled and fell around her bare shoulders, several pieces tickling her chin and wafting around her cheeks and forehead. Her makeup was subtle, and natural looking, apart from her lips, which were painted a deep shade of red, and looked even more kissable than they usually did. "Damon?" Elena frowned at him. "Are you ready yet?" Damon gave her a lazy smile and shrugged.

"I really don't know," he replied, looking disinterested in making her happy, even though it was the first thing on his mind at all times. Elena stepped into the room and crossed her arms, looking annoyed. "Do we really have to go?"

"I knew this was a bad idea," she muttered. Damon raised an eyebrow.

"I thought you wanted me to come, as a replacement for my dearest brother," he said with a smirk.

"No," Elena snapped back. "I agreed to ask you because Stefan didn't want me to go by myself and he kept pushing it. You think I would ask you of my own free will?" Damon had known this all along, but he didn't know why it hurt hearing her say in out-loud for the first time. Elena looked him up and down and huffed a bit, walking over to him and fiddling with his tie. Her perfume intoxicated him, and it took all his self-control just not to reach out and touch her cheek, or a strand of hair.

Despite what everyone thought, Damon was actually the_ master_ of self-control.

He wanted Elena so bad, but aside from several sarcastic side comments, he hadn't made a pass at her.

"I did it up properly, I do actually know how to dress myself," Damon told her as she redid his tie, her fingers brushing against his neck, her nails gently working at the knot she was tying. She didn't respond, but then backed away and looked up at him. She reached up and began fussing over his hair. "Oh God, Elena, my hair is fine!" Damon snapped at her. Elena pulled back, her face holding a surprised expression. Damon never snapped. Damon didn't really show any kind of emotion, they were all just hidden behind sarcasm and alcohol.

"Are you okay, Damon?" Elena asked.

"Oh as if you care," Damon muttered. "Let's just go." He pushed past her and walked out the door, down the stairs, and out the door. He was in the car, turning the key, before Elena had even come out the front door. She shut the front door and hopped in the car. She knew Damon well enough to know that he wouldn't tell her what was wrong, unless he wanted to, and it didn't appear that way. She gathered her dress around her, and shut the car door. Damon studied her out of the corner of his eye as they began the drive. She had a strapless black dress on, with a wide red sash just underneath her breasts, which made her cleavage even more amazing that usual. She had plain, black shoes on, and he kept fiddling with her fingernails, which looked weird. "Drop paint on your fingers or something?" Elena rolled her eyes, although she was glad he had broken the awkward silence.

"No, they're called french-tipped," she replied. "And they're very stylely and expensive."

"You actually paid someone only to paint half your nails?" Damon asked in disbelief. Elena rolled her eyes again and went to looking outside at the the dark landscape rushing by. She had never got night weddings, she had always thought that weddings should take place during the day. They left the town and the forest enveloped them while the silence in the car dragged on. Suddenly, they started slowing down, and pulled over to the side of the road. Damon groaned.

"What?" Elena snapped.

"No gas," he said.

"Are you being serious?" Elena slapped the dashboard. "You didn't think to check before we left? For God's sakes, Damon!"

"Oh great, so it's all my fault, is it?" Damon snapped at her. "You're queen of the world, organising everything so that it's perfect, but _you_ never thought to check the gas gauge!"

"It's not my car!" Elena yelled back at her. They went quiet.

"Look, I'll just run back and go to a station, and get some gas in a can," he said, opening his door. Elena didn't respond, and then in a quiet voice, she murmured,

"No." Damon stopped.

"No?"

"Don't leave me alone out here," she said, not looking at him.

"But then we're going to be stuck here, unless you want me to take you on my back," he suggested. Fire flamed in Elena's eyes, looking like the girl he knew once again.

"No!" She snapped to that. "Just... Someone will drive past." Damon shrugged and got back into the car. They sat.

And sat.

And sat.

"This is ridiculous. I can be back in like 10 minutes," Damon huffed and opened his door. Elena reached out and grabbed his arm, pulling him back in the car. Damon laughed and pulled his arm away. "Darling, do you really think that you can hold me back if I want to go." Elena sighed.

"Please stay," she said.

"Why are you so scared to be left alone? You're Miss Fearless Elena," there was heavy sarcasm put on the last three words. Elena sighed. "Okay, fine," Damon got back into the car. It was quiet again. They had been sitting in the car in practically silence for almost half an hour. Elena let out a shiver. Damon glanced over at her and saw her wrap her arms around her body. He sighed and took off his jacket, handing it to her.

"I'm fine," she muttered.

"No, you're cold," Damon replied, reaching behind her, forcefully moving her forward and putting the jacket around her shoulders. As he was tucking it on the shoulder that was furthest from him, he realized how close their faces were. Elena sucked in a gulp of air as they stared at each other, their noses only millimetres apart. He could smell her perfume, and her shampoo, and just the smell of her, and it drove him crazy. Neither of them moved, they continued staring at each other. She blinked, her eyelashes long and gorgeous. Damon couldn't help it, he lifted his hand and settled it on her cheek, carressing the smooth skin with his hand, still staring deep into her eyes.

"Da..mon," the name was broken, coming from her lips. "We shou..shouldn't be doing this..." Damon continued stroking her cheek. Elena's breathing became laboured and her eyes began to close for longer periods of time. Finally, they stayed closed, her breathing heavy, her lips parted slightly, as though inviting him kiss her.

So he did.

His lips pressed against her soft, painted ones, and a jolt of electricity ran through him as he felt her respond. She returned the pressure against his mouth and felt his tongue run along her lower lip and a shiver ran down her spine. His hand left her cheek, and touched her neck, his fingers tickling the smooth skin. He dropped his mouth to her jawbone, running soft kisses across the skin, and then down to her neck. She sucked in a deep breath again as he began to suckle the sensitive skin at the base of her neck.

"Oh.. Damon," Elena murmured. Just hearing her say his name drove Damon crazy. He wanted her so bad. He wanted her more than he had ever wanted anything. His head lifted once again and he pressed his lips back against hers, just drinking in the taste of her.

Suddenly, their whole car was lit up and they sprung apart, their eyes adjusting to the sudden light. The oncoming vehicle pulled over on the opposite side of the road, and the driver undone their window and leaned out.

"Are you folks okay?" The driver called out. Damon only just managed to suppress a groan. He leaned out his own window.

"No, we're out of gas! Do you think you can lend us a hand?" He called back. The other driver nodded.

"Do you two want to lock your car up and hop in with us. We will take you too the service station and then we can bring you back with a bottle of gas," the person called out. Damon nodded his thanks, both him and Elena getting out of the car and locking their doors. As they climbed into the other car, they exchanged glances.

The hardened look had once again come over Elena's eyes, and she shook her head slightly at him, looking back out the window.

But one thing Damon did notice with a self-satisfied smirk, was those red lips were slightly smeared now, and she couldn't stop fiddling with those stupid french-tipped nails of hers.

_Please review x_


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